


Use Me

by DestinyIslandWanderer



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Blind Ignis Scientia, During Canon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Foursome - M/M/M/M, M/M, OT4, Porn with Feelings, Tender Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:54:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25425721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestinyIslandWanderer/pseuds/DestinyIslandWanderer
Summary: Ignis didn’t know how to ask for what he wanted. He wanted all of them, as close to him as they could be, surrounding him, inside him, touching every inch.“Use me,” was all he managed, a pitiful demand uttered into Noctis’s open mouth.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia, Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 17
Kudos: 122





	Use Me

**Author's Note:**

> Both my OT4 fics have been ridiculously kinky, so I wanted to write something more tender and romantic. This wasn’t at all what I had in mind, but I do love Iggy being loved, so guess it worked out. Hope you enjoy ❤️

Ignis had overheard the way they talked about him now, like he was fragile, when in truth he was already broken.

His vision was lost, and Noctis would be lost, and the despair of the revelation haunted him to the point of despair. Sleepless nights were made inevitable not only by the echoes of physical aches and scars, but emotional ones too. 

He couldn’t touch the three of them, couldn’t get any closer than he already was, knowing it wouldn’t last. It was a matter of time, time which was slipping past at a cruel pace. He abided the minutes in endless darkness, minutes uncountable because he couldn’t measure them, could no longer glance at his wrist and say with certainty, _It’s 6 o’clock, Noct. We’d better make camp_. 

Still, the ticking was a comfort even if the seconds felt stretched, because Ignis knew in his heart that time would be too short some day–Noctis’s time, possibly Gladio’s and Prompto’s too.

Ignis lay awake in the tent as he did every night now, willing himself to bear the passage of minutes until daylight broke. As soon as he could see that semblance of light, he would press on as though being weak and useless didn’t faze him, as if he were still the indomitable man he was trained to be from childhood.

They were talking about him now, just outside the tent, assuming he’d been asleep for hours when in reality he never slept.

“He hasn’t even let me kiss him since that first night. You?” Gladio whispered.

“No, dude.”

Noctis said nothing, but Ignis could picture so clearly that nearly imperceptible shake of his head.

“Guess we can’t blame him. I know it’s not easy. It’s just…” Gladio said.

His voice was so weak, the voice of a man defeated. It broke Ignis’s heart. _Be strong for me, Gladio. This used to be what you’re good at._

“Me too, dude. Never thought...well, never thought things would get this bad.”

Prompto, his darling angel of positivity and light, so downtrodden. 

Of course, Noctis was silent. Ignis could almost hear what he was thinking, how upset he must be, how he must blame himself and wish to end it while knowing he could not.

Ignis had done this. Not intentionally, but in a way. He used to be able to manage them all so well. He helped Gladio stay strong and Prompto take heart and Noctis stay grounded. 

He couldn’t do that now. There was not an ounce of extra strength or cheer or gravity left in him. Ignis floated somewhere between helplessness and despair.

But he must carry on. If he couldn’t maintain his relationships, at least he could maintain his duty to the crown. He could still fight. Not well, but well enough to survive. Indeed, the only time he felt any thrill of existence was in battle, when it was life or death, and he was going through the motions just to keep the three of them alive for one more minute of one more day.

As he lay there listening, he realized it was easy enough to shut himself off in quiet moments like this, to pretend that he could neither hear nor see, that he was truly blind to what was happening, the breaking of a sacred bond. Breaking because Ignis was the weak link.

He was shaking now, and he could feel tears coming. He had staved them off for so long in the name of bravery, but the whispered concern for him was too overwhelming, too large a burden on his heart.

“Is Iggy–?” Prompto asked.

They’d heard him. They’d find him curled up in his sleeping bag, pathetically weeping. And he’d have to explain himself, how his outward appearance was all just a front, how he didn’t want to be touched because he was hideous. He’d felt his scars, and he knew if they reached for him it was out of pity for what they’d once had, a thing that had been more beautiful than Ignis would’ve dreamed in all those years he’d spent alone. And now he had reverted to that past again, where he had nothing and no one but himself.

“Iggy?” 

It must be Prompto then, who was meshing himself into Ignis’s sleeping bag and cuddling into his arms.

“Iggy, what’s wrong?”

His voice was breaking, dear Prompto.

“Oh Prompto, please don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.”

“I’ll–I’ll try not to,” Prompto sniffled.

Ignis felt his way to Prompto’s cheek and gently wiped at the tears. 

It did feel good to touch him. It did. It was a sensation so familiar and sweet. Prompto looked so precious when he cried, though usually he only did so when he was particularly happy, not sad like he was now, sad because of Ignis.

Prompto’s lips were on his mouth. It had been too long since he’d received a kiss. He used to receive them hourly, like clockwork, one from each lover. Now it was a shock to his nervous system, like a healthy habit too long abandoned, the nourishment too great for his feeble body to accept.

Ignis had to remind himself why he couldn’t do this and backed away.

“Please don’t feel bad for me, darling. I hate to see you cry on my account.”

“Just let me kiss you, Iggy,” Prompto pleaded.

“It’s really not necessary, Prompto. We should move on from this phase of our relationship.”

“What phase?”

“You know what I mean,” Ignis snapped, so harshly it surprised him. He had never said a harsh word to Prompto in his life, and it cut at Ignis inwardly, that he would do such a thing, that he could cause so much pain when he used to be all tenderness.

“I don’t,” Prompto pleaded.

“I’m blind and half-crippled Prompto. I don’t like the idea of the three of you doting on me because you feel obligated.”

“That’s fucked up, Iggy.”

“He’s right, that’s totally fucked up,” Gladio agreed as Ignis heard the rustle of the tent entrance opening. He could hear Noctis too, lighter footfalls that followed Gladio. They were all with him now. He didn’t like being put on the spot like this, bare in front of all of them. He wondered how he looked with the evidence of tears on his face and his runny nose leaking onto his marred face.

He would never know how repulsive he looked, could never know for sure if they were telling the truth when they insisted it wasn’t so bad, that he looked fine, that he was still handsome and desirable, even lovable. The lies almost hurt worse. He wished he could hear the ugly truths that echoed in his brain confirmed aloud if he could no longer ascertain them by sight. He had so few senses he could trust now.

He felt Gladio’s arms encasing him and pulling him up until he was a curled ball in his lover’s arms. Gladio’s chest was bare and warm, so enticingly familiar, that Ignis instinctively rested his cheek against it, and it was a comfort greater than any he had known in a long time. 

He was tempted to weep again as Gladio stroked his hair, and he felt Prompto’s cheek resting on his shoulder as an arm wrapped behind his waist.

“Noctis?” Ignis pleaded. Noctis was so quiet lately that Ignis had almost lost track of him. Ignis used to know everything he was thinking on impulse by a single glance–his posture, his brows, the curve of his lips. He’d memorized those gestures since they were young, and Noctis hadn’t changed much, was still an echo of the boy he once was.

Except now Ignis had nothing to gauge Noctis by, and he was the one Ignis ached for most because every moment with him was finite and therefore precious. Noctis was already out of his grasp, his days numbered. And in a way, Ignis needed him a safe distance away in order to keep moving forward, but in the same breath, he also yearned to have him close.

He felt Noctis’s delicate hand in his, but the prince remained unendurably quiet. 

“Noctis,” Ignis begged, urging him closer, the need to know he was real and solid an absolute necessity. 

Ignis guided his own hands to Noctis’s face. His fingers were clumsy, but he was able to touch what he wanted as he wrapped fingers behind Noctis’s neck and pulled the prince’s lips to his. 

The taste was sweet. He had missed it, just like he missed being useful, needed, desired. It surprised him to discover Noctis wasn’t kissing him any differently. He was saying with his lips the same thing he always said. _Come closer. I need you, Iggy._

Ignis parted his legs to pull Noctis closer, and he felt Gladio and Prompto respond to his movements, limbs adjusting to make way for what Ignis wanted, and he felt the love in that, the kindness, and it made him wonder if maybe he was wrong about all this, if maybe his depression had been feeding him lies that had festered too long in the darkest corners of his imagination, lies that had made him believe this grand love wasn’t real, that it couldn’t transcend the physical. 

_But it could, it could._

Ignis didn’t know how to ask for what he wanted. He wanted all of them, as close to him as they could be, surrounding him, inside him, touching every inch.

“Use me,” was all he managed, a pitiful demand uttered into Noctis’s open mouth. 

He felt his head being laid back onto a pillow as his clothes were gently parted from him, and Ignis gave himself over, never pausing to wonder whose hands did what.

He let them touch him, becoming only pleasure and flesh, and in this new world, the unchangeable darkness was of no importance, because the luscious contact of flesh sent a wondrous electricity that ignited visions of brimming life behind his eyelids, blossoming flowers under a cloudless sky, magnificent bursts of memory awoken by a lover’s intuition.

Gladio was stroking him, his calloused, practiced hands unmistakable.

Prompto pushed himself inside his mouth, and he relished the sensation of being filled, of giving pleasure and being needed. Prompto’s soft sighs were amplified in the darkness. He could picture so clearly Prompto’s eyes closing in pleasure as he bit his bottom lip.

He felt warm fingers pressing at his entrance. Delicate fingers that could only belong to one.

And soon enough, Noctis was pushing inside him, and it was a relief to know the prince was still living flesh and pulsing blood, still solid and tangible.

The three of them used him in slow motion, Prompto and Noctis pushing inside him at a sensual pace as Gladio’s hands enveloped him, soon replaced by a wet warmth that made him shiver, his mouth pulsing around Prompto’s cock as he moaned.

Ignis let it all consume him, the sweet and languid sensations that reduced him to a non-being with no wants or needs beyond exactly what was being offered.

He let it linger this way for a long time, and his lovers were patient, pleasuring him without concern for the passage of time, even seeming to enjoy it judging from the sounds that occasionally graced his eardrums, soft moans and sighs, the hum of Gladio’s mouth enveloping him, Noctis’s heavy breathing as he filled Ignis to the brim, over and over.

When Ignis finally came, his lovers made it last, allowing him to grace the gentle waves of his orgasm to an unknown destination. 

Prompto’s lips kissed his, Gladio’s hands cleaned him, and Noctis gently squeezed his thighs, never leaving contact with his body until it was time to put their clothes back on, which they helped him do too.

They were all quiet as they returned to their sleeping bags, each kissing him before departing. Only one stayed.

Finally, that blessed voice he had ached to hear, coming from the man whose arms were holding him in that embrace he had so long craved.

“Everything okay now, Iggy?” Noctis whispered.

Ignis guided delicate fingers to his lips and offered a gentle kiss. “Yes, my love. More than okay.”


End file.
